The Lone Star is not so Lone
by Roxburry Black
Summary: Texas can't sleep, plauged by memories from the Alamo he turns to his dad for help but first he must swallow his pride. *Contain parental America and mentions of violence * mostly fluff!


I do not own

The digital numbers on the alarm clock glowed bright green, they read 1:49. Texas glanced at them for a full 30 seconds before it changed to 1:50. Great, he grumbled to himself, kicking the blankets off, another night of no sleep. The house was silent, it always got that way after every state finally turned in. Even Nevada went to sleep before now. Only he was awake in the entire house of 56 people. He sat up and yawned, he was tired yes but like it had been over the past few weeks Texas couldn't sleep, sure he wanted to but it eluded him. His room wasn't hot nor cold but the perfect temprature for the heat loving Texan. He kicked his legs but it didn't relieve any of the angry buzzing in his calf muscules.

"I could use some food," he said but as he spoke an uncomfortable sinking feeling in his stomach made him shake his head, "Never mind." His brain was tired, his body was tired but he just couldn't sleep!

'Maybe' Texas abandoned that thought as soon as it flitted across his mind.

'But you need sleep' a little voice in the back of his brain reminded him, 'I'm sure he won't mind. Do you want to wake up remembering the Alamo? Go on.'

"No, I won't," he hissed outloud to that annoying buzz in his head and buried his face into the pillow.

'I won't go away until you stop being a coward' the voice buzzed and Texas cursed, with another cuse he grabbed his favorite pillow and silently stomped out of the room and upstairs to the master bedroom.

The hallway was chilly and Texas shivered, staring at the door. There was a man beyond the door, his father... thecheerful, goofy, intellgent, fast, strong and sometimes terrfifying man named America. Texas had been living in this house for several hundred years and remembered what the mans face had been like when Mexico had beaten him for rebelling against him. The thought of such an angry America still terrified. And besides, Texas was a proud state, he offered help, he didn't take it nor did the Lone Star state ask for it. It just didn't happen. But here he was, standing in front of America's door, to terrified to go back to his own bed and to scared to knock. Sure he accepted America as his father figure but he had never really connected, except for that one but that was irrelevant. America had taken great care of every state he held under his care, cared for them, rewarded them and sometimes punished them. 'I can't believe I'm reduced to this,' he sighed but taking a deep breath knocked gently three times. There was silence then a few crashing noises and the door opened to reveal a bemused and sleepy America on the other side. His eyes were hazy but once he caught sight of Texas they widened and he straightened.

"Texas, what's wrong?" Texas could see concern in those eyes but he hugged the pillow tighter and glanced down at his feet.

"Can't sleep," he mumbled and when he worked up the courage to look up America had a soft, knowing grin.

"Come on in," America moved to the side and Texas took a few steps into the dark room and a a great sense of relief washed over him. America's room was perfect, it smelled like a forest and the temprature was even more perfect than his own room.

America shut the door, the darkness covered up Texas's growing blush, damnit, he was the second largest state in the nation! He was not going to be for help like a little kid! Just as he whirled around to leave and regain some of his manly Texan pride a hand settled on his shoulder and he stopped, feeling his insides shrivle with childesh fears and wants.

"Come on Texas if you think your the first kid to come to me in the middle of the night think again," Texas shook himself free of his father's hand and in a few seconds had shot under the blankets and was curled around his pillow, covered in blankets, blushing furiously.

America slid under the blankets but made no effort to touch him, "Want to tell me about it?" Texas didn't answer to America took it as a no.

"You know Texas, I think this is your first time, even Pennsylvania comes in once in a while." Texas stopped wallowing in pity for a moment to stare at the darkness, heart thudding painfully from hope. Pennsylvania, the most arrogant and egosistigal of all the state who on an hourly basis said, "I'm Awesome" and fought constantly wih everyone had come their father with fears and worries? There were several minutes of silence until Texas poked his head up from under the blanket and said a single word, "Alamo," before ducking back down again.

America hummed, staring up at the ceiling with a gentle hand he patted Texas's hair and said, "come on up buddy, must be stiffling under there."

When Texas finally pulled out from under the blankets he trembled as the rush of memories came back.

Page break!Texas's memories.

There was another earth shattering roar as the wave of Mexicans broke over the wall. Texas sat in the corner, holding onto a bullet wound in his side, staring across the carnage with glazed eyes. Hand to hand combate as he had never seen before, every inch of the courtyard was covered in blood and grim as he saw Daniel Boone swing his musket butt into the face of a soldier, a bullet to the head stopped him soon thereafter. The pain was unbearable but Texas couldn't scream, no matter how much it hurt his body didn't seem to work.

A shadow fell across him and Texas rolled his head backwards, squinting up to see Mexico standing there, covered in blood, dark eyes glittering hatred and fury.

"Hola Tejas," Mexico reached for the boy and grabbed his collar, "You have been very bad." Everything was surreal to Texas but the battle seemed to be winding down, he couldn't move and thinking was like walking through water but there was something clear. Mexico threw him to the ground and uncurled the whip by his side, Texas got up on all fours and took a shaky step forward before Mexico slammed a booted foot into his ribcage. With a whimper Texas collapsed back onto the ground, it wasn't until the first stripe landed across his back did the boy scream.

Back to present time!

He didn't realize he was now being held gently until America's soothing words broke through his haze of fear. Burying his face into his father's neck he trembled silently but began to calm down. America's strong arms were wrapped around his torso and he was being craddled as if he were just a chibi, Texas took a deep breath and hugged him closer.

"I'm sorry," he muttered into America's shoulder.

"For what?" He sounded genuinly bemused.

"For being so weak," Texas replied as America rubbed soothinng circles on his back. Ghost pains from his beating wracked his body and he began to tremble again.

"A man is truely a man when he is willing to accept help and ask for aid," said America.

When Texas finally calmed down he gave a huge yawn, he was about to get up but warm arms and comforting presence lulled him to sleep.

America smiled as he felt Texas relaxs and eventually fall into a deep slumber. His son's chest rose and fell steadily and carefully he tucked the boy into bed before pulling the blankets up to his own chin. With a yawn he too, gradually fell asleep.


End file.
